Sold Out

about

a lone wolf
bane of the west
mean as hell
someone to ride the river with
these tales, told by the man himself.
with a lick and a promise,
he penned them in the bone orchard
then spun these tales onto magnetic tape.
that right there is the Simon pure.
callous like sunned hide,
he seen his fair share of steely eyed crooks and the shoot
ace high stories contained in this collection of tales
visceral textures
shoddy production
this nighthawk lays some flannel-mouth poetry over it all.
the big guns will want him in the hoosegow soon enough after hearing this.
he'll give you the west
but it could be anywhere I guess